


Courting

by scrods



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Flirting, M/M, Mall food court AU, Mild Language, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 00:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9852815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrods/pseuds/scrods
Summary: The mall food court AU no one asked for, in which Yuuri and Viktor flirt with each other across the food court, Viktor doesn't know how to tone it the hell down, and Phichit is the best, worst friend Yuuri could ask for.





	

“Have a nice day,” Yuuri says, handing a woman her change with a shy smile. As soon as she’s out of hearing range, he whirls around to face the boy standing behind the counter with him. “Am I doing this right?” he implores anxiously. “I don’t think I’m doing this right.” Fiddling with his apron, he glances around the food court warily.

“Relax, Yuuri! You’re doing great,” Phichit assures him with a bright smile. “There’s not much to it. Soon enough you’ll be scooping ice cream and fake-smiling in your sleep.” He pauses and solemnly places a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Yuuri… you have it in you. The potential. Maybe… you were even born to do this.”

Yuuri snorts and shoves Phichit’s hand off of him, rolling his eyes at his friend’s grave stare. “God, I better not be destined to scoop ice cream for eternity. Even getting to work with you is definitely not worth that,” he laughs. Phichit clutches his chest as though wounded.

Yuuri had just started at the mall food court’s ice cream bar earlier that day. When Phichit’s boss recently asked him if he knew anyone interested in working there over the summer, he jumped at the chance to throw Yuuri’s name in. He knew his best friend had been looking for summer work, and this way the two got to spend extra time together over their all-too-short break from university classes. Luckily things had worked out in their favor, and Phichit was now training Yuuri through his first day on the job.

As Phichit breaks away to greet a customer, Yuuri leans his hip against the counter to his side and lets his gaze wander across the mall’s food court. He’s not huge on interacting with strangers and could do with less of the crowds and chatter of mall-goers around him, but he’s happy to have the job and even happier to have Phichit by his side making him laugh and calming his relentlessly overactive nerves. His eyes scan over the different establishments lining the expanse of the food court and he absentmindedly studies the employees working behind their counters.

He’s been zoning out for a minute or so when his eyes catch another pair’s across the food court and he starts a little where he’s leaning against the counter, standing up straighter and blinking.

He takes in the stranger, quickly registering a shock of silver hair under a red uniform cap and—oh shit, Yuuri gasps softly—a really, really… like, ridiculously nice face. Yuuri’s eyes widen comically when it registers that the stranger appears to have been staring at him, and said stranger seems to startle a little too when he realizes he’s been caught. Before Yuuri can make sense of the quick quirk of the boy’s lips and the way he averts his gaze away, he’s being shaken out of his reverie at the sound of his name in his immediate vicinity.

“Yuuri! You there?” Phichit laughs, nudging him. Yuuri snaps out of it and faces Phichit with wide-eyed disorientation. “You look like you transcended the physical realm there for a second. I was wondering if you wanted to take the next customer while I wash some stuff.”

“O-Oh… right, yeah, of course!” Yuuri chirps, turning his attention to the customer and leaving Phichit behind to stare at him with an expression of amused puzzlement.

As he practices what Phichit has showed him and prepares the order, he mentally shakes himself out of his distraction and pushes the moment out of his mind for the time being.

After taking care of a long string of customers with Phichit, Yuuri sighs and leans back on the countertop next to him. “What’s with the random surges of people? We’ll go 20 minutes without anyone, and then it’s like the entirety of the mall decides to wait until our guard is down to descend on us.”

Phichit chuckles. “Who knows. You get used to the inexplicable patterns of customer behavior after a while. Just don’t question it.”

As they fall into companionable silence, Yuuri once again allows his gaze to wander. Remembering the brief incident from before, he glances in the direction of the chicken restaurant where he remembers seeing the mystery boy. He frowns when he can’t locate the silver hair from before and checks his watch, realizing a while has passed. His shift must have ended, Yuuri figures with a small pang of disappointment. Oh well.

He finishes out the rest of his shift and parts ways with Phichit, promising to see him in a couple days for the next one. Digging around for his keys as he heads toward the parking area, he wonders in the back of his mind whether the boy will be there again too.

 

The next time Yuuri shows up for work, he’s immediately yanked behind the counter by Phichit and drawn into a frenzy of activity as the line for the ice cream bar rapidly accumulates. The first hour of his shift passes by in a blur, and when things finally slow down Yuuri is left worn out and with an aching arm from scooping so much ice cream. (“Scooper’s Arm,” Phichit calls it authoritatively. Yuuri makes a face. “You’re gonna get so buff working here. Well, maybe just the one arm. But still.”)

The two are so busy for a while that the boy from the other day has completely slipped Yuuri’s mind until Phichit nudges him during a slow period, snickering. “Hey. Don’t look now, but some dude’s checking you out _hard_ from the chicken place.” Yuuri, of course, snaps his head up and looks, much to Phichit’s exasperation.

There, across the food court, is The Boy, indeed looking right in his direction. When their eyes meet, Yuuri squeaks and turns around, clutching onto the counter behind him and shrinking into himself.

“Yuuri, what the hell?” Phichit laughs, sticking his head into Yuuri’s field of vision with an incredulous expression. “What’s wrong with you?”

Yuuri is blushing and terrified. “Oh my god. Phichit. The same guy was looking at me the other day. Why is he looking at me?!”

Phichit’s face slowly lights up. “Oh my god. Yuuri. I think you have an _admirer_.” He’s laughing, the cruel bastard, and Yuuri slaps at his arm to shut him up.

“Stop. I hate you. Shut up.” It’s to no avail as Phichit cackles harder at him. Yuuri continues, “He’s probably just… I don’t know. Maybe he thinks I’m someone else? Maybe—maybe it’s coincidence and we happen to keep looking over at the same time?” His voice is embarrassingly high at this point.

“Maybe he’s been hired to kill you?” Phichit suggests helpfully.

Yuuri gives him a deadpan look.

“But seriously, Yuuri, oh my god. Yeah, I’m sure it’s a coincidence, that’d totally explain the long, dreamy staring.” Yuuri whimpers and ducks his head further down as Phichit bats his eyes at him dramatically in poor imitation.

After a few seconds of biting his lip, Yuuri peeks up and murmurs, “Is he still looking?”

Phichit subtly glances up and immediately drops his gaze again. “Yup. Looks kind of embarrassed now though. I think he knows we saw him.”

“ _Ohmygodnooooo_ ,” Yuuri whines.

Phichit laughs and claps him on the shoulder. “Aw, it’s okay, Yuuri. He just thinks you’re cute!” Yuuri has his face buried in his hands now. “Want me to wave him over for you?” Yuuri kicks him in the shin without removing his face from his hands. Phichit grins and spares another glance up. “Anyway, you’re safe now. He’s not looking anymore.”

Yuuri sighs, relieved (and maybe a little disappointed). With a final glare in Phichit’s direction, he pushes himself off the counter and gets back to work. If he deliberately avoids looking across the food court for the rest of the day, no one (except maybe Phichit) is any the wiser.

 

Yuuri’s next couple of shifts go by in a similar fashion. The boy seems to share most of the same shifts as him, and Yuuri isn’t sure whether he is distressed or pleased about this. He decides it’s a confusing combination of both.

When the Chicken Boy isn’t looking over at Yuuri, Yuuri is dazedly watching him. The boy seems to practically _sparkle_ when he smiles, and he somehow makes handing someone a bag of grease and their change sexy (at this thought, Yuuri decides he’s losing his mind). Once, Yuuri watches him burst into bright laughter with a coworker and he involuntarily lets out a gasp. He bets his laugh sounds like a million bells chiming together in harmony.

They keep catching each other’s eyes, and the boy starts holding eye contact and smiling a little at him when it happens. Yuuri is still too shy to do anything but panic and look away, but before long he finds himself smiling back a little first.

Naturally, Phichit has way too much fun with the whole thing. He’s constantly either teasing Yuuri for his lovesickness, making lewd jokes and chicken-related puns, or offering to march on over there and give him Yuuri’s number himself. Yuuri knows he wouldn’t, but he can’t help squawking and turning red at the suggestion regardless. He threatens to quit about five times a day.

One afternoon, Yuuri is attempting to look casual while subtly scanning for his target when he realizes he’s not behind the counter as he usually is on Tuesdays. Not that he’s memorized his schedule or anything.

That’s when he sees him not behind the counter, but standing a little ways in front of it. The boy is holding a tray and stabbing pieces of chicken with toothpicks before proffering them to passers-by with a dazzling smile. Yuuri’s eyes widen as he raptly watches him work. He makes handing out samples look like an art form. Yuuri unconsciously licks his lips a little, not at the tasty looking hunks of meat being handed out but rather at the tasty looking hunk of meat doing the handing out. (Yuuri blinks and shakes his head, a little disgusted at himself. Okay, no. Nope. Too far.)

He tears his eyes away and forces himself to focus on what he’s actually here to do, which is definitely not ogling beautiful men with perfect faces and silver hair and heart-stopping smiles and, wow, holy shit, a _really_ nice ass that he’s never gotten to lay eyes on until now—

And suddenly something very cold is being dropped down the back of his uniform shirt and Yuuri honest-to-god squeals because _holy_ _SHIT_ and then Phichit is behind him laughing with the bucket of ice they use for smoothies and Yuuri is going to _murder_ him. “ _PHICHIT_ , I swear to God—”

“ _Pfffffffft_ , you—you were looking a little hot under the collar there, Yuuri,” Phichit doubles over laughing, “Thought you might need some help _cooling down—_ OW!”

Yuuri is pulling Phichit’s hair and stepping on his foot in a display of decidedly workplace-innapropriate behavior, but he’ll be damned if he’s letting him get away with that. After they break up their little scuffle to attend to a group of customers, Yuuri forgets about the boy again until the customers leave and he’s once again unoccupied.

Risking another furtive glance up, he frowns in confusion when he can’t locate him either in front of or behind the fast food joint’s counter. He was just there a few minutes ago—

That’s when Yuuri’s heart stops because he realizes the boy has not in fact left but only come _closer_. He and his tray of chicken have apparently migrated halfway across the food court by now and are currently weaving through the seating area sharing the gift of free samples. Yuuri is pretty sure you’re supposed to stay in front of your own food stand when giving out samples, but okay.

His pulse accelerates when he realizes Chicken Boy is drifting closer. He leisurely offers a young couple some samples with a wide smile, not seeming to mind the strange expressions he receives back when the two glance from him to the vegan food stand he now happens to be standing nearest to.

And then he’s oh-so-casually gliding up to the ice cream bar. Yuuri’s mouth goes dry as he looks up and they lock eyes. The boy smiles. Yuuri has no idea what kind of face he’s making. The boy looks down. Stabs a piece of chicken with a toothpick. Looks back up and holds it out. “Spicy sriracha fried chicken?”

Yuuri is lost in his eyes ( _blue_ , his mind supplies) and his voice and the way his mouth forms the words “spicy sriracha fried chicken.” Dimly, he realizes he needs to answer. “Um,” he comes up with geniusly.

Phichit chooses this moment to tune in to the situation. “Why, we’d _love_ some!” he practically yells, pushing his way to the counter and bumping into Yuuri’s shoulder deliberately. His face is one of great amusement and awe. Yuuri wants to die. “Come on, get me a sample!” Phichit says, shoving Yuuri forward. On autopilot, Yuuri extends his hand and as their eyes meet, the boy hands over the chicken and brushes hands with him. Alarm bells are sounding in Yuuri’s head and he scrambles for something to say.

“Aren’t those… supposed to be for mall customers only?” he comes up with, and mentally smacks himself.

The boy only breaks into a wider grin and laughs. It does sound like bells. “Why not share the joy of chicken with everyone?” Yuuri can’t tell if he’s messing with him. He hears Phichit express loud agreement to his right and really, really wants to die. Almost as soon as Chicken Boy came over, though, he moves to leave. “Well, enjoy!” he smiles at the both of them before locking his eyes right on Yuuri. “Later,” he glances quickly down at Yuuri’s name tag. “…Yuuri.” And then he’s smiling and skipping off.

Several seconds pass in silence. Phichit is grinning wildly next to him. Yuuri’s eyes are huge. “…What just happened?”

Phichit sidles up close to Yuuri’s ear and whispers, “He wants your spicy sriracha _body_ ,” before immediately darting away in anticipation of Yuuri’s retaliation.

Yuuri is a blushing, indignant mess as he lunges in the direction of his best friend.

 

Yuuri tries not to look across the food court at all during the following shift. This turns out to be extremely difficult.

Luckily, his pursuit proves pointless pretty quickly. It’s not long into Yuuri’s shift and his back is turned to the food court as he cleans equipment. Mind wandering as he works, he jolts at the sudden sound of Phichit clearing his throat exaggeratedly. Furrowing his brows and pausing in the middle of washing an ice cream scoop, he turns to Phichit and starts to ask what the matter is when he stops in his tracks.

There, back at the ice cream bar, is Chicken Boy, leaning on the counter and smiling at him. Yuuri jumps and drops the scoop, which clatters loudly into the sink and makes Yuuri wince.

“…Hi?” he tries softly after a second.

“Hi,” the boy answers, still wearing that weird, unreadable smile. He leans his chin on one hand propped up on his elbow and doesn’t elaborate.

Yuuri’s eyes dart around a little and he frowns, confused and flustered. “…Um. M-more samples to share?”

The boy stares blankly for a moment before he blinks and straightens, laughing a little and looking caught off guard. Soon, he recovers and confidently states, “Not today. Today I thought I’d enjoy a nice cone of ice cream while on my break.” He’s beaming at Yuuri. So is Phichit, but in a different way. Yuuri is unsure why this is happening to him.

“…What can I get you?” he asks cautiously, drying his hands and making his way over to the ice cream case.

“Hmm… well, what’s your favorite, _Yuuri_?” he drawls, and Yuuri freezes. How can he just—why is he—who even _is_ this boy?! And then it occurs to Yuuri—he doesn’t even know his name! In an instant, he’s glancing down to the boy’s shirt and—

“Viktor…” he breathes softly. Before promptly realizing that he said that out loud. Yuuri gasps and brings a hand to his mouth, flushing head to toe. He longs for nothing more than to melt into the floor.

The other boy— _Viktor’s—_ reaction, however, is certainly interesting. His eyes widen and he reels back a little, and—is he… blushing? Before Yuuri can process _that_ , however, he’s recovered and schooled his face back into that calm, infuriating smile. “Hmm… I’ve never heard of that flavor. What’s it like?” he winks. Yuuri gulps. _I’d like to find out_ , the traitorous side of Yuuri’s brain supplies, and he quickly tries to shut that line of thought down as fast as it starts.

“U-um,” Yuuri stutters gracefully and shakes his head. “I mean—well—my favorite is probably c-cookie dough?” he asks.

“Wonderful!” Viktor exclaims. “I’ll have a scoop of that.” His smile is entirely too bright and it hurts Yuuri’s eyes in the best way.

In a daze, Yuuri’s training kicks in and he murmurs a quick “cuporcone,” lost in the curve of Viktor’s lips.

Said curve quirks up to one side crookedly. “Come again?”

Before Yuuri’s brain can start thinking of alternate meanings of that phrase, he clears his throat and blurts “Cup or cone?”

“Oh!... Cone, please,” he replies, and is he doing this to Yuuri on purpose? Now, of course, he’s imagining Viktor licking the cone pornographically and _ohmygodwhy_ —

“Anything else?” Yuuri asks loudly and cringes at himself. “We have, um, coffee? And, uh… some juices? And bottled water…”

“What do you recommend?” Viktor asks again, way too amused, and Yuuri wants to punch him in that stupid, beautiful mouth, maybe with his own mouth.

“I— like the lattes?”

“Great! I’ll take two smalls.” Two? Is he that addicted to caffeine? But wait, why wouldn’t he order one large? Oh no—it’s not for someone else, is it? Not that there’d be anything wrong with that, of course, Yuuri barely knows the guy and it’s fine if he’s with someone else—or, well, maybe it’s just for a coworker or friend…

Throughout this anxious internal monologue Yuuri prepares Viktor’s order, paying embarassing attention to making the scoop of ice cream as perfect and round as possible. He places the items in front of Viktor and rings him up, passing him his change and wondering how their hands keep brushing like that.

When the whole transaction is complete, however, Viktor doesn’t leave. He just smiles at Yuuri, grabs one of the lattes, and pushes it back across the counter in Yuuri’s direction.

It takes a second, but then it hits Yuuri like a sack of bricks. _Oh_.

“Happen to be going on break anytime soon?” Viktor asks hopefully, smiling but unable to disguise the way his cheeks flush a little bit pink.

Yuuri thinks his heart really has stopped this time, and he’s _definitely_ lost the use of his vocal cords. But it doesn’t matter, because once again Phichit has chosen the best possible time to butt in.

“What a _coincidence_! It turns out Yuuri’s break is _just starting_ right now! Isn’t that great?” he pipes overenthusiastically, shoving Yuuri not-so-subtly towards the low swinging gate behind the counter. Yuuri shoots him a deer-in-the-headlights look before Phichit winks and leans close to his ear to whisper, “Relax. Now go and lick that boy’s ice cream cone.” He pushes Yuuri through the gate and beams cruelly at him from his position of safety behind the counter.

And then they’re standing there together. Yuuri is staring at him, frozen except for his fingers clenching and twiddling nervously by his sides. Viktor again extends one of the lattes out to him. Grateful for something to clutch onto and do with his hands, Yuuri accepts it with a shy smile.

They meander over to a small table on the farther off, less crowded edge of the food court, Yuuri trailing slightly behind Viktor and subtly inspecting his ass again. (Still nice.) They sit down across from each other and Viktor leans forward, elbows on the table.

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri curses himself for flushing every time Viktor says his name in that dulcet voice. “…Yes.”

“Are you new here?”

Yuuri nods, not trusting himself to speak coherently.

“I figured. I definitely would have noticed you before if you weren’t,” Viktor says casually just as Yuuri is taking a tentative sip from his latte. He coughs and chokes on the drink a little. Viktor’s smile widens. He licks his ice cream cone. “Mmm, delicious! Good suggestion, Yuuri.”

Yuuri has to look away. “…glad you like it,” he mumbles to his shoulder.

“So,” Viktor starts. Yuuri’s gaze snaps to him in anticipation. “Tell me about yourself, Yuuri.” Viktor’s chin is in his hand and a warm smile is blossoming across his face and he’s leaning so far forward it looks kind of ridiculous and Yuuri’s heart is pounding and suddenly he’s forgotten everything about himself.

“Shit,” he whispers. Viktor cocks his head at him and even that is adorable. This boy needs to stop being so goddamn attractive for like half a second so Yuuri can focus.

And then Viktor’s smile goes slack and his eyes go wide. And Yuuri realizes that he may have just said his thoughts out loud again, and holy shit does he need to work on his brain-to-mouth filter. He’s panicking and thinking of how to rescind his aggressively thirsty comment when Viktor breaks into surprised giggles and brings his hands up to cover his rapidly reddening face. He’s smiling dopily behind his hands when he says lowly, “So the feeling _is_ mutual,” and then Yuuri too is hiding his face and feeling his mouth twitch upwards of its own volition. They just look at each other for a few moments, blushing and giggling like two idiots.

After that, the tension dissipates and Yuuri feels himself becoming more relaxed as he opens up, telling Viktor about himself and then listening raptly in turn. They learn that they have quite a bit in common for having such different dispositions (both are poodle lovers, for example, which to Yuuri definitely has to be a _sign_ for its weird specificity), and Yuuri can’t help feeling that they seem to complement each other in all the right ways.

He’s not sure how this happened or if either of them are ever going to get any work done from now on, but he finds he doesn’t care. After spending way longer talking and laughing and mooning over each other than any break should be, Yuuri yelps when he realizes the time, feeling guilty for being an all-around horrible employee and coworker. He insists that he get back to help Phichit and that Viktor go back to his chicken, and then they’re awkwardly parting ways.

Yuuri is just lifting his hand in a wave when Viktor suddenly lights up with an “Oh!” and fumbles around in his pants pocket. When he withdraws his hand again, he shoves some kind of little piece of paper at Yuuri with a smile. Yuuri takes it and inspects it.

It’s a coupon for the chicken place. Yuuri stares at it for a moment before lifting an eyebrow and managing a confused “Uhh… thanks—” before Viktor reaches out and flips it over for him. There, on the back of the coupon, is Viktor’s name and what he presumes to be his number, written in loopy handwriting with a little winky face next to it. Yuuri gasps and breathes out a little “Oh” before pausing. “Wait. Have you just had this in your pocket the whole time?”

Viktor blushes with an sheepish smile and rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve… had it in there for days, actually.” Yuuri looks at him for a second and lets out a long snort, dissolving into delighted laughter. This just serves to make Viktor pout and blush harder.

Still smiling warmly, Yuuri reaches out and quickly squeezes his hand before retracting it shyly. “I’ll text you... Viktor.” He watches Viktor’s face light up before turning around and darting back through the gate behind the ice cream bar counter, grinning all the way.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a short, quick exercise to try my hand at writing fic again but me being me I probably got a lil too sucked in oops  
> anyway im bursting with AU ideas at the moment so it'd be rad if i actually turned some more of those into reality  
> enjoy and please feel free to drop me a comment below and let me know what you think! thanks for reading!
> 
> PS. deepest apologies for the punny title


End file.
